


The Dragon King

by AuthorByNight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorByNight/pseuds/AuthorByNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the course of two and a half days, Charlie goes through the motions as he and his family cope with Fred's death and burial, struggling to comfort his family while dealing with his own grief - and guilt. Originally written for the Charlie Ficathon on Livejournal for the user rzzmg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dragon King

  
Charlie was having the dream again.  
  
He was playing with his younger siblings; they always loved to play with him, especially "Dragon King." Even Percy liked the game; but no one liked it more than the twins. Charlie thought Ron and Ginny might appreciate it more when they were older, though by then he'd be at Hogwarts most of the year. Bill was a year Charlie's senior and already there. So that left the twins.  
  
Charlie took the twins out to the tree-house, where the Dragon King lived. But this time, they absolutely  _had_ to get to the tree, because there was a snake going after them.  
  
"The dragon will save us if we hurry!" Charlie declared. The twins giggled, thinking it was all a joke. Why was everything a joke to them?  
  
Charlie grabbed onto the straw ladder, and instructed them to follow him up. Rain was pouring now, and there was a loud hissing noise from the bushes nearby. As he was climbing, he heard George scream: "FREDDIE!"  
  
Charlie looked down; his little brother was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Charlie always woke up from these dreams the same way - upright in bed, panting for dear life. He relaxed a bit when he realized it was just a dream.  
  
But only a bit - because really, it wasn't.  
  
_6 AM_  
  
Charlie was tired of wakes and funerals, but was glad this one was last, because it was the most painful. Remus and Tonks's had been hard enough - Dora Tonks was one of his best friends.  
  
_Is_ , Charlie corrected  himself inwardly.  _Tonks is still my best friend. Fred is still my brother. I will not relegate them to past tense because of a technicality._  
  
Unable to fall back to sleep, Charlie went into the kitchen. Harry and Ginny were already there, but they weren't talking; they actually looked rather stony, and while Harry was stroking Ginny's hand (if a bit absently), Ginny didn't seem to notice.  
  
"So are we ready for tomorrow, pretty much?" Ginny asked. It took Charlie a minute to realize she was talking to Harry, despite not looking at him.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said. "Did you make sure George is?"  
  
"He's... well, not ready for anything... you know."  
  
"I do."  
  
"But what would be more fitting than this? It's the prank of all pranks."  
  
"What is?" Charlie asked, sitting down.  
  
Ginny smiled, though Charlie could see she was holding back tears. "Well, it wouldn't be a surprise if you knew what it was, would it?"  
  
"Do Mum and Dad know?"  
  
"No," Harry said. "Ginny, Ron, George and I agreed to take care of things... and we have."  
  
"They'd consider it improper just from hearing about it," Ginny added. "But they'll be touched when they see it in action. And anyway, it's not as though Fred really would've wanted-"  
  
Her voice broke, but rather than cry, Ginny glared at the table as though trying to bore holes through it.  
  
_11 AM_  
  
Almost all of the Weasleys (as well as Harry and Hermione) came to breakfast; the only ones missing were George and Percy .Charlie didn't know if Percy would even come to the wake, and he knew it was his and Ginny's fault. They'd been hard on him, saying things they didn't mean to say - perhaps, in a way, didn't mean at all. Charlie had been so glad to see his brother again, and yet instantly enraged.  _Now_ he was behaving like family?  _Now_ he was showing his face, after he'd left for so long? How dare he. Percy had stayed, taking the blows, but no one had heard from him since.  
  
"Should we check on him?" Molly asked Arthur, her skin blotchy. Everyone knew she meant George.  
  
"I think he wants to be left alone," Ron said.  
  
Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, Ron, of  _course_ he said he wants to be alone. It can't be what he really wants."  
  
"Why can't it? Has it occurred to any of you that maybe he's hurting right now?"  
  
"We all hurt right now," Charlie told him. "He was our brother too."  
  
"Yeah, but we weren't born with him, were we? Didn't share a crib with him? Didn't learn to walk and talk with him?"  
  
Charlie looked at his brother in surprise. When did his occasionally clueless and slightly awkward brother become so damn  _smart_?  
  
"So if he wants to be left alone," Ron continued, "let the poor bloke be alone."  
  
Molly looked as though she might object, but Arthur put his hand on her shoulder. Her face relaxed, and she began to eat. Charlie didn't think he'd seen her eat all week.  
  
"Flitwick's kept the pond they magicked in that corridor, you know," Harry said.  
  
Everyone laughed despite themselves.  
  
"I still remember Umbridge's face," Ginny giggled.  
  
"And Hermione's," Ron added. Hermione swatted him playfully.  
  
"I admired it, actually," she admitted. "Wish I'd told them..."  
  
"They... know," Charlie assured her. _Not knew. Know._  
  
_2 PM_  
  
The cemetery they used was ancient, so ancient it was hard to know who was family and who was simply buried with them. Graves dated back to the 12th century, magically restored in all their glory.  
  
_Artur LeWeslyn  
  
1156-1269  
  
Ignatius Weasley  
  
1790-1851  
  
Margaret Ginevra Catchpole  
  
1340-1460_  
  
They then passed people Charlie knew or at least knew of. His grandparents... Uncle Fabian... Uncle Gideon, Charlie had adored him, he'd introduced him to dragons...  
  
They reached the Church, which had been built in the middle ages. When Charlie had been very young, his parents had taken their children there. Over time, they went less and less. When Charlie left for Romania, they hadn't been except the occasional Christmas in years.  
  
Charlie took his place just inside the Church. He would be doing the greeting today, along with Fleur.  
  
Fleur looked at the cross in front of her and uttered a barely audible prayer, closing her eyes for a fraction of a minute.  
  
"I didn't know you were religious," Charlie said.  
  
"Not terribly so, but I believe in God. Do you?"  
  
Charlie hesitated. "I don't know. What kind of God would let a monster like You-Know-Who take over? Take so many people from us?"  
  
"'ere's 'ow I look at it," Fleur began softly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "If zere's nothing... what is all zis suffering _for_?"  
  
Charlie had no answers, other than that Bill was lucky to have her.  
  
_4:30 PM_  
  
Charlie still couldn't go near the casket.  
  
It was closed, of course, but still - Fred was in there. It made it more real, and Charlie couldn't bear to look at it any longer, so he turned away.  
  
He was knight to the Dragon King. He should have been there to protect them...  
  
But he hadn't been, so instead of dwelling, Charlie continued to greet everyone who came. He hugged Hestia Jones, who looked as though she'd been crying all week, but still asked if  _he_ was okay. Charlie shook hands with Lee Jordan, the twins' closest friend, who looked very lost, and with Professor McGonagall, who told him Fred had been one of her brightest pupils, even if - or perhaps because - he used his brains for "unconventional means." Charlie eventually found himself huddled with his siblings and their significant others.  
  
"Listen," Ginny said, the last to join them, "I went to George's flat... he's not there."  
  
Charlie didn't like the sounds of this. "Were his things there?"  
  
"Yeah - well, not his coat. There were no signs of struggle, though.... it's as though he just went for a walk."  
  
"I knew we should've checked on him," Bill said at once.  
  
"You don't think he's done anything... rash?" Hermione whispered.  
  
"No," Ron said. "He's - here! With Percy!"  
  
Sure enough, George and Percy were walking in together, headed towards the group. No one spoke.  
  
"Hi," Percy said. His eyes were red, though his face had more color than George's.  
  
"This is where I've been," George explained. "I know you've wondered."  
  
"Look," Percy began, "I know you don't really want me here-"  
  
"-is it true you made him laugh?" Ginny interrupted.  
  
At first, Percy stared at Ginny, who stared back. After a minute, he nodded.  
  
Ginny threw her arms around him and, for the first time that Charlie had seen, began to cry.  
  
_7 PM_  
  
Aunt Muriel had a knack of being insufferable at the best of times, much less the worst. So when she invited them to her place for dinner, Charlie was reluctant.  
  
"But of course we must go," Molly had insisted when Charlie expressed his misgivings. "She's doing this for us... she's done so much for us."  
  
Charlie knew she was right, so he dropped the matter. But he wasn't surprised when within ten seconds, she was - albeit with the best of intentions - picking at wounds.  
  
"I know how you feel, you know," Muriel told George.  
  
Everyone held their breath. George raised his eyebrows.  
  
"I had a twin too... when she died, it was like losing part of myself."  
  
"No, it wasn't," George said.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"You weren't that close with any of your sisters, according to Mum. She hardly ever saw you until Aunt Mable and Grandma were murdered within a week of each other and you felt guilty."  
  
"That's enough!" Molly snapped. Charlie was shaking his head wildly at George. What was he thinking?  
  
"No, it's not enough. Not until people stop telling me they know how I feel. No one knows how I feel."  
  
George slammed his Firewhiskey down so hard, it spilled all over the table. Before Charlie had even registered what happened, the door slammed shut.  
  
"He didn't mean it," Molly told Muriel.  
  
Muriel looked shaken. "I know... but he's right."  
  
No one could argue with that.  
  
  
_9 PM_  
  
"Oh, it's you," George said when he opened the door to see Charlie. He ushered him inside, and Charlie, who had expected a mess, was surprised to see that everything was relatively tidy and orderly.  
  
"I just wanted to make sure... well, after dinner..."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"George..."  
  
George sighed. "You want the truth? I don't know who I am anymore, let alone how I should be reacting."  
  
"Would it help if I stayed overnight?" Charlie asked.  
  
"Honestly? I'd like that," George admitted.  
  
So Charlie slept on the sofa. They wanted to leave Fred's room untouched.  
  
  
_3 AM_  
  
Always the same dream.  
  
  
_9 AM_  
  
The mourners made their way back to the cemetery. The part Charlie had dreaded the most.  
  
"I have a surprise," George said with a grin, though it seemed somewhat plastered on.  
  
"Yeah, Harry and Ginny hinted. Are you sure you can do this?"  
  
"No, but it's what he would've..." George trailed off, then seemed to regain his composure. "I  _have_ to do this."  
  
Charlie watched George disappear somewhere with Ron, Harry and Ginny, then sat next to his father.  
  
"How was he last night?" Arthur asked.  
  
Charlie shrugged. "Not as bad as I thought he'd be, after his outburst. I might stay there tonight, too."  
  
"Good morning."  
  
Lee Jordan was standing on a platform, holding a loudspeaker.  
  
"What is he doing?" Charlie asked Bill, who was sitting on his other side.  
  
"I have no idea," Bill replied.  
  
"In honor of Fred's... life," Lee said, "we wanted to give him a spectacular send-off. He once told me this was his idea of a perfect funeral, and I have to agree. We all had to agree."  
  
Music commonly played at Quidditch games began to play, and  hoops started to rise out of the ground.  
  
A Quidditch funeral procession... of course.  
  
Sure enough, Ginny and Ron were flying through the hoops together. They separated after the last one, standing on either side of the rings, standing their brooms in front of them.  
  
More somber music replaced the celebratory music, and a group of people emerged with the coffin. They were all in uniform.  
  
In front was a burly man, who after a moment Charlie recognized as Oliver Wood. He remembered him as an overly eager first year. On opposite sides of the coffin were Harry and three girls - Angelina, Katie and Alicia, right? All of them looked sullen, Angelina in particular.  
  
At the rear was George, somehow remaining very calm. He slowly drew out his wand, and a fiery dragon bonfire burst out  
  
"We'll give them hell for you, Fred," George said loudly, his voice breaking.  
  
It was exactly what Fred would have wanted.  
  
  
_12 PM_  
  
At the reception, Charlie found himself sitting next to Percy, who was absently eating a cucumber sandwich.  
  
"Hi," Charlie said.  
  
"Hello, Charles."  
  
"I believe we're on nickname basis," Charlie said with a laugh. He hadn't realized he  _could_ laugh.  
  
"Right. Charlie."  
  
"Look, about the things I said-"  
  
"-they were true. I've been a prat. I believed Fudge, then I was too ashamed to come home, then I wanted to lay low for everyone's safety... in short, I left, and didn't come back until it was too late."  
  
"You're not the only one who left," Charlie told him. "I didn't exactly come running home the moment the war began. I mean, I had Order duties in Romania, but... I didn't really have to be there. Before that, I wasn't home at  _all_. I left without looking back."  
  
"You went to work with dragons, though."  
  
"There's a Dragon Reserve in Wales, you know. I just wanted to get away, and by the time I got back, it was - what you said. Too late."  
  
"I reckon you were meant to go away, to the biggest Dragon Reserve in the world. We all admired your job from afar."  
  
"I guess," Charlie said. "Point is, when I said all those things to you... I really meant myself."  
  
"Oh. Well, you shouldn't blame yourself."  
  
Charlie knew he was right, but he still wished he'd come home sooner, or more often beforehand. There were so many things he'd never be able to do or say again.  
  
"I suppose what's done is done, though," Percy was saying. "And... it was all meant to be. Especially for you.  _You_ were the Dragon King."  
  
"You remember that?!"  
  
"How could I forget?"  
  
"You're okay sometimes," Charlie said. Percy smiled wryly.  
  
Charlie knew he was right, of course. He'd done what made him happy - and it wasn't as  though he never wrote, it wasn't as though he hadn't helped Ron and his friends smuggle a dragon across Europe, it wasn't as though he hadn't fought in his own right. It would just take some time for him to get past what had  been lost.  
  
But looking at Percy, who had yet to leave his side, he also knew some things had been regained.  
  
  
_8 PM_  
  
Everyone had left; it was just them now, their core family. George had stayed behind for a change. He'd said he needed to take some things home in the morning, but everyone knew better.  
  
Molly and Arthur laid on the couch, Molly's eyes closing. Ron and Bill played wizard's chess by the window. Percy and Hermione were discussing something history related. Fleur, Ginny, and George were playing Exploding Snap.  
  
Charlie considered joining, but he was just as happy to watch. Perhaps that was why he had left. He and Bill had both mainly left because they'd wanted adventure, and because they refused to work for the Ministry of Magic (a decision they were both glad they'd made), but for him, Charlie, there was also something about observing from a distance that he enjoyed.  
  
Harry walked in from the kitchen to Ginny, handing her a drink. They were older now, Charlie remembered. Ginny would be legally an adult in a few month's time, and Harry was already there. Everyone was getting older, of course - that's how it was, how it had to be.  
  
"Charlie, come play with us!" George called, and Charlie was reminded of a very small boy. He climbed in between them, eager to play along.  
  
For a while, things almost felt normal.  
  
  
_12 AM_  
  
Charlie was having almost the exact same dream, but it was different now.  
  
Fred and George were climbing to the tree-house, in front of Charlie this time as opposed to behind.  They were older now, no longer little boys but not quite men yet either.  
  
The Dragon King swooped lower and lower until Fred was able to get onto him. George made to follow, but Fred motioned for him to stop.  
  
"I need to journey on my own," he said. "You lot have so much yet to do."  
  
With that, the dragon took Fred far away, until he was a dot, until he wasn't visible at all. But George still waited, frozen at the top of the ladder.  
  
"Come on," Charlie said. "We need to go in for dinner."  
  
The two brothers headed back towards the Burrow, sadder but none the wiser.


End file.
